Something Like Revenge
by Argenteus Draco
Summary: Obi-Wan wasn’t sure he believed himself. But when Maul extended a tattooed hand for him to shake, and it was solid in his grip, he was forced to believe.
1. Teaser Chapter

**Author's Note:** This was inspired by randomly teaming up Maul and Obi-Wan in the Lego Star Wars computer game. The idea stuck in my mind until I had to write it.

Also, for the interest of any who have noticed that this title bears a striking resemblance to "Something Like Rebirth," credit for that goes to Skywalker05. In her (paraphrased) words: Well, in "Something Like Rebirth" Obi-Wan dies when he shouldn't have, and in "Something like Revenge," he didn't kill when he should have… So, after that, the title had to be "Something Like Revenge." At least for the time being.

* * *

**Something Like Revenge**

_Teaser Chapter_

Obi-Wan Kenobi was a very logical person. He liked it when things made sense.

But there was no logical explanation for this. _I killed him_, he thought. _This isn't possible._

And yet, the yellow eyes, set into that grim, determined, red and black face, told him otherwise. Which made the logical side of his brain very angry.

_This isn't possible! It has to be an apparition._

_…but apparitions don't speak…_

"Surprised to see me?"

"'Surprised' is not quite the word I'd use."

The left corner of his mouth twitched slightly, which Obi-Wan supposed might have been his form of ironic smile. "I've been looking for you. Do you know why, Jedi?"

"You want revenge."

"No."

The hand that had been hovering over his lightsaber paused, and Obi-Wan blinked in surprise. "No?"

The Zabrak began slowly circling Obi-Wan, his piercing gaze never once leaving the Jedi Master. "No. I hunt a man who calls himself Darth Tyranus. I need whatever information you have in order to find him. And you need me to kill him." Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, but Maul cut him off with a fiery glare. "You get the prize and the glory. I only want the favor of my Master. Do we have a deal, Jedi?"

Steely blue eyes met icy gold; Obi-Wan felt as if he were trying to stare down a gundark. In the end, he had to look away.

"We have a deal, but only provided that it remains strictly between the two of us."

"Of course." The horned head cocked slightly to one side as he regarded Obi-Wan. "After all, the world thinks I'm dead. Who would believe you anyway?"

Obi-Wan wasn't sure he believed himself. But when Maul extended a tattooed hand for him to shake, and it was solid in his grip, he was forced to believe.

Even if the logical side of his mind didn't want to.


	2. Chapter I: Visions of the Past

**Author's Note:** Since the first installment of this story, there's been one other addition: a companion piece called _Vengeance_, written by skywalker05. They are the same story, told from two drastically different points of view, and are best experienced together.

* * *

_…Chapter I – Visions of the Past…_

**It was the** same dream that had plagued him since Naboo. He watched the fateful duel from another perspective, from outside of himself, and analyzed it to the last excruciating detail. But nothing looked any different.

At first, they were the same seamless force they'd always been. They were united in the Force, effectively one warrior in two bodies. But they'd never faced anything like this Sith before. His Force-push was the first thing that had ever separated Master from Padawan in the middle of a battle.

If he'd been a few steps quicker, Obi-Wan thought he might have made it through the ray shields in time to reunite with his Master – in time to save him. But just like every dream, he was held up at the last shield and forced to watch Qui-Gon's murder.

As soon as the shield came down, Obi-Wan surged forward and refused to give up the offensive. He cut the double lightsaber hilt in half but still found himself retreating until he was pushed over the edge of the reactor shaft. He knew, in the back of his mind, that he should have died then and there – the Sith was toying with him, gloating his victory, almost. It was his only mistake. The time that he was hanging was just enough for Obi-Wan to call Qui-Gon's lightsaber to his hand and jump back onto the platform. In the briefest moment, he took in everything: the light, the hum of his weapon, the feel of the solid metal beneath his feet, the startled gaze of his opponent, and, of course, the Force presences around him. Qui-Gon's was fading steadily – he'd been stabbed clean through the chest and left to die. And so, to the monster who had stabbed him, Obi-Wan returned the favor.

He watched the Sith fall to the floor, and then he woke up.

Anakin was standing in the doorway, looking expectantly at Obi-Wan. "Are you alright, Master?" he asked quietly.

Obi-Wan gave him a small smile. "Yes. I'm sorry, Padawan. Did I wake you?"

The boy shook his head. "No. I had a nightmare."

"You too, huh?"

Anakin scurried forward to stand beside Obi-Wan's bed. "Can I sleep in here tonight, Master?"

"Now, Anakin," Obi-Wan replied softly, "we've been over this. You're almost eleven; you're getting too old for that. What's wrong now?"

"I think there's an Anzat in my closet."

Obi-Wan sighed. "How many times do I have to explain that nothing like that could get into the Temple?"

At least Anakin had the grace to look slightly guilty. "Could you please check?"

Slowly, and perhaps slightly over-dramatically, Obi-Wan extricated himself from his blankets and followed Anakin into his room. He didn't bother to turn on the glowsticks stuck into the walls; his senses were sharp enough to see clearly, even in the limited light coming in from the living area. Slowly and deliberately, he walked across the room to the small closet and pulled open the door.

There was nothing inside but tunics, pants, and a few scattered computer parts that Anakin used when putting droids together. But Obi-Wan could not deny that there was a definite darkness surrounding the area.

Of course, there was a definite darkness around most of Coruscant these days. The Council spoke about it in hushed tones; the cloud of the Dark side. It was a constant reminder of the too-real threat that the Sith suddenly presented. No one liked to think of it; in fact, Obi-Wan had realized that most of his peers were content to imagine the threat had passed when Obi-Wan had slain the Sith apprentice on Naboo. Surely, the Master could not find and train another so quickly, and the Jedi would catch up to him long before he and his apprentice were ready.

Obi-Wan wasn't so sure, but he was not about to let anyone else know that. Just as he was not about to let Anakin know that he, too, felt something was amiss in the room.

"There is nothing in your closet, Padawan," he said, closing both the door and the conversation. "Go back to sleep."

**The next dream** is perhaps even worse than the first.

He holds his Master, tears blurring the last image he will ever have of Qui-Gon Jinn. He strains to hear his mentor's final words, only half listening but ready to agree to anything the dying man could ask of him.

"He is the Chosen One. He will bring balance. Train him."

And then he feels the Force gather around him, rolling in like storm clouds. Qui-Gon attempts a smile, but it seems he is too weak even for that small action. Obi-Wan shuts his eyes and lets the tears fall. When he opens them again, the Force is trickling away, and Qui-Gon is still and cold.

As gently as he can, he lays his Master's body down on the floor; the man is far too heavy for Obi-Wan to carry him out. He leaves the room, with the battle, the Sith, the fate of Naboo all driven from his mind by the two tasks now before him. First, he will find a guardsman who can help him move Qui-Gon. Then he will find Anakin, and do his best to explain.

The Naboo are seeing to their own dead, but the man he speaks to does not hesitate to help him. They return to an eerily empty room, and Obi-Wan knows he will be forever haunted by what he sees there. Like ghosts, both Qui-Gon and the Sith have disappeared.

**Obi-Wan glanced out** the window at the pre-dawn light, and sighed. He moved quietly out into the living area of the apartment, since he didn't think he'd be getting any more sleep that night. Just as well that he got up now; he'd learned that running himself to the point of exhaustion was the easiest way to avoid the nightmares.

He was surprised to find Anakin awake as well, sitting silently in the kitchen unit, sipping from a cup of hot chocolate. He looked up sheepishly as Obi-Wan entered and flicked on the lights.

"Did you even attempt to go back to sleep, Padawan?"

Anakin shook his head. Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose. "You do realize how long the day is going to seem now?"

"I won't complain."

The two of them were silent for a long moment. Then Obi-Wan pulled out the other chair, and sat down heavily.

"Pass the chocolate, Anakin."


	3. Chapter II: Dreams in the Present

_…Chapter II – Dreams in the Present…_

**True to his** word, Anakin did not complain as the day wore on; at least, not to his Master. Obi-Wan, however, felt as though he'd like nothing better than to whine like a youngling, and being summoned to the Council Chambers did nothing to abate this.

He still had not gotten used to standing in the center of the circular room, with the focus on him where it had previously been on Qui-Gon. And he didn't even have Anakin with him to draw some of their attention away, which could only mean one thing; he'd been summoned alone so that he could discuss Anakin. Or perhaps something that Anakin had done.

"Curious, we were," Yoda said evenly, "how the boy's training was progressing."

Obi-Wan tore his eyes away from a particularly brightly painted speeder whose reckless pilot was sure to cause an accident, and replied, "Anakin is studious, and eager to learn. He wants to excel at everything, and most of the time, he does."

"Indeed." Mace Windu watched Obi-Wan over steepled fingers. "But surely even you have noticed that he has been distracted recently."

Obi-Wan fought to keep his tone even and devoid of the agitation he felt at still being treated as though he were an apprentice himself. True, it had been only a year and a half since the events of Naboo, but he had changed a lot in that time; he and Anakin both had. "He says he fears the darkness, Masters. He feels it more strongly than most of his peers, I think."

"And you, Obi-Wan?" Depa Billaba asked. "Do you fear the darkness?"

Fear? He might have laughed, if it wouldn't have been so un-Jedi like. He didn't fear the darkness any more now than he had when he'd faced the Sith, but of course the fear was there, steadily pervasive in all of his thoughts. What he answered, however, was simply, "Fear is the path to the dark side."

He caught Yoda's eye, and held the green gaze for a long moment. Finally, the Master thumped his glimmer stick on the floor and replied, "Teach this lesson to your apprentice, you still must. Difficult, I know, this will be for him."

"But he will learn." Obi-Wan was not sure why he came to the boy's defense so quickly, but the reaction was sharp and instinctive. He only afterwards remembered to add the honorific "Master" to the end of his sentence.

Eeth Koth waved the slip up aside. "You are dismissed, Obi-Wan."

He heard the low murmur of voices as the door slid shut behind him, and Obi-Wan left the Council Chamber with the sinking feeling that he was still being discussed.

**Anakin was sitting** by one of the reflecting pools in the Room of a Thousand Fountains when Obi-Wan found him, idly trailing his hand through the water and watching the ripples glide toward the banks. "What are you thinking, Padawan?"

There was a long pause before Anakin replied. "I felt it again, Master, the same thing I felt last night. Like it's following me."

Obi-Wan sighed. "Anakin, I assure you, if there was anything malicious that was smart enough to get into the Temple and remain hidden for this long, it would have already found an opportunity to attack you."

Although his tone was light, bordering on mocking, even, his words did not seem to have the desired effect. If anything, they made Anakin even more somber. "What if it's not looking for me?" he asked quietly.

The hair on the back of Obi-Wan's neck suddenly prickled, but he deliberately ignored the sensation. He was supposed to be more in control of his emotions than that, and he was not going to let Anakin's paranoia affect him. "Come on, Padawan." He put a hand on Anakin's shoulder, guiding him up and toward the western entrance. "Maybe a spar will put this nonsense out of your mind."

**They practiced for** roughly three standard hours, moving through their usual routine of stretches, warm ups, drills, katas, and finally an arduous duel that left both Master and apprentice winded and sweat-soaked. They bowed to each other, and when Anakin looked up again Obi-Wan was pleased to note that some of the light had come back into the boy's blue eyes.

**He doesn't always** dream about Naboo. Sometimes he dreams about the weeks after.

He and Anakin don't talk much on the way back to Coruscant. He can tell that the boy is mourning Qui-Gon, and his powerful emotions are almost too overwhelming for Obi-Wan to be close to him. At the same time though, he knows that Anakin's upbringing, so different from his own, has left the boy craving contact; a hug, even a simple touch on the shoulder, anything to reassure him. But these things are so foreign to Obi-Wan that he is never sure how to respond when Anakin comes to him for comfort.

He has no idea how he will salvage a relationship with the boy when Yoda tells him that Anakin Skywalker will become his apprentice.

Then there are the nights where he once again finds himself standing beside a lit pyre in the dark; all for ceremony, of course, since there was no body to burn. A robed figure comes to stand beside him, and Obi-Wan pulls his hood down so that he can make out more of man's features in his peripheral vision.

"I regret that Qui-Gon and I never had a closer relationship," Master Dooku tells him. "He was probably my greatest pupil."

"I miss him," Obi-Wan replies without thinking. "I wasn't finished learning from him yet."

"He was a great teacher," Dooku bows his head and puts his hands at the edge of the stone platform, as though using it for support, "and a great man."

They stand in silence for a long moment, and then, still without looking at Obi-Wan, Dooku turns to leave. "Good luck with your new Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi. If you ever need advice, please do not hesitate to find me."

But two weeks later, when he does finally go to speak with his Master's Master, he finds that Dooku has already left.


	4. Chapter III: Darkness Encroaching

…_Chapter III – Darkness Encroaching…_

**It was the** third morning where he hadn't slept well, and it was beginning to show. Not that he exhibited any telling physical signs like dark circles under his eyes or pale skin on his cheeks, but he was sure that Anakin noticed how his speech was slower, and that he drank stim-tea with breakfast instead of his usual naris-bud blend. He wondered idly when the boy had grown so observant.

Rather than participate in the spar that day, Obi-Wan stood to the side and practiced the forms of Soresu while Anakin dueled with fellow Padawan Jax Pavan. He watched idly while the boys circled each other around the center mats, their practice blades raised into the guard positions. Anakin was in the opening stance of Ataru; he was, Obi-Wan realized, mimicking Qui-Gon.

The kata took him into a spin, so he missed the first exchange of blows, but he heard the cracks as the two blades met each other. When he next got the opportunity to look past his own blade they were circling again, though Anakin appeared to be pushing the offensive. He lunged forward at Jax, but then had to parry a second series of attacks when he landed off balance with his feet too far apart. Obi-Wan called out a correction to him before he launched himself into another spin-kick. "Watch your feet, Anakin."

Anakin ground out a reply that Obi-Wan only half-heard. This was the more difficult part of his drill, and it required his full focus. He parried attacks from an imaginary enemy, the familiar visage that haunted his nightmares. But as he continued in this vein, his attacks became more violent, less controlled, and therefore sloppy. He deactivated his lightsaber and looked back toward Anakin.

The Padawans had both rushed forward at the same time, and this time the clash was followed by two shrieking sizzles, and then the thud of someone's fist connecting with the other's jaw. When they both staggered backwards, Obi-Wan saw that it was Anakin who was sporting burns.

Both the training lightsabers flicked off, and Obi-Wan made his way to Anakin's side. The first attack had landed on his shoulder; painful, but certainly not fatal. The second attack though -- the one for which Anakin had punched Jax in return -- had been to the side of Anakin's face, dangerously close to the left temple. After checking that the other apprentice was alright, Obi-Wan escorted a disgruntled Anakin to the med-ward.

"I could have beaten him," Anakin grumbled. "One more exchange, I could have gotten through his guard."

Obi-Wan did not reply. Perhaps it was the way his Padawan had been acting the last few days, or perhaps it came from the lack of sleep, but all of a sudden he had the feeling he was being watched.

**The Togruta healer** who examined Anakin did not talk much as she ran scanners and sensitive fingers over the wounds. "I don't think they are serious," she finally said in a soft, even tone. "But I would like to keep him until the end of the day, just to be certain."

"Of course." Obi-Wan turned his gaze back to his Padawan. "You'll be alright up here for a few hours, right?"

"Sure, Master."

Obi-Wan watched his apprentice for another moment, then said, "I'll bring you that essay you still need to finish for your political studies." He heard Anakin groan as he left the room, shutting the door behind him.

He'd barely gone five steps when a new set of voices reached his ear. "How did it happen?..." "...nothing else on him, not even a bruise..."

It was lack of sleep, and therefor lack of judgement, Obi-Wan decided, that made him investigate further. He stepped into the same sort of plain room where he'd left Anakin, and found four Jedi Healers standing around the unmoving figure of a Pho Ph'eahian wearing the grey jumpsuit typical of Temple workers. His head lay to the side at an unnatural angle.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Obi-Wan asked from the doorway.

One of the healers, a human male who Obi-Wan vaguely remembered from lessons on treating injuries in the field, gave a sharp bark of laughter. "Help? Maybe three days ago you could have helped. It looks like his neck was broken; he probably fell off one of the catwalks in the fueling station."

"But he wouldn't have," a new voice, an older Twi'lek also wearing a grey jumpsuit and presumably the one who had found the Pho Ph'eahian, added. "He was always so careful. He wouldn't just _fall_ like that."

The healers looked at each other, and Obi-Wan understood the earlier comment about bruising. If the Pho Ph'eahian had fallen, there would be other signs of impact. The fact that there were none pointed toward something more sinister.

"Show me where you found him," he said to the Twi'lek.

Obligingly, the man bowed to each of the Jedi, and hurried out of the room, Obi-Wan on his heels.

**Obi-Wan had never** been in the service corridors before. The Twi'lek had led him silently through the twisting labyrinth of passages until they came to a half-lit junction. The Twi'lek pointed him forward, then turned down the left passage himself, claiming that he needed to return to his duties. Obi-Wan let him go; he could understand not being ready to visit the place where a friend had died.

It was quiet in the corridors, the only sounds being the hum of unseen machinery and the muted sounds of Temple life coming from the other side of the thick walls. Obi-Wan moved cautiously, not wanting his footfalls to disturb the rhythm around him. It was peaceful in it's own way, not dissimilar to the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

The click of boot heels hitting the tile behind him made him jump. He spun to face the source of the sound--

And stared.

Qui-Gon had always told him that his brain was hardwired for logic, and it was true; Obi-Wan was a very logical person. He liked it when things made sense.

But there was no logical explanation for this. _I killed him_, he thought. _This isn't possible._

And yet, the yellow eyes, set into that grim, determined, red and black face, told him otherwise. Which made the logical side of his brain very angry.

_This isn't possible!_

The other side of his brain, the part that was still feeling the effects of sleep deprivation, could only think about his nightmares. He wanted this to be like all the others, and he would wake up and find himself tangled in sweat soaked sheets, but the vision before him would be gone.

_It has to be an apparition_. He kept trying, desperately, to convince himself of this.

…_but apparitions don't speak…_

"Surprised to see me?"

"'Surprised' is not quite the word I'd use."

The left corner of his mouth twitched slightly, which Obi-Wan supposed might have been his form of ironic smile. "I've been looking for you. Do you know why, Jedi?"

"You want revenge."

"No."

The hand that had been hovering over his lightsaber paused, and Obi-Wan blinked in surprise. "No?"

The Zabrak began slowly circling Obi-Wan, his piercing gaze never once leaving the Jedi Master. "No. I hunt a man who calls himself Darth Tyranus. I need whatever information you have in order to find him. And you need me to kill him." Obi-Wan opened his mouth to protest, but Maul cut him off with a fiery glare. "You get the prize, the glory if you find any. I only want the favor of my Master. Do you understand, Jedi?"

Steely blue eyes met icy gold; Obi-Wan felt as if he were trying to stare down a gundark. In the end, he had to look away.

"I understand, but this must remain strictly between the two of us."

"Of course." The horned head cocked slightly to one side as he regarded Obi-Wan. "The galaxy thinks I'm dead. Who would believe you anyway?"

Obi-Wan wasn't sure he believed himself. But when Maul extended a tattooed hand for him to shake, and it was solid in his grip, he was forced to believe.

Even if the logical side of his mind didn't want to.

**He expected the** darkness to be more prevalent around the Zabrak. He expected to feel anger from him, hatred, the emotions that Obi-Wan had always been taught to release. But there was nothing like that. The Force merely swirled around the Sith apprentice in the same manner that it surrounded the Jedi, constantly flowing as he used it, presumably, to cloak himself as he strode confidently forward, far more confidant than Obi-Wan felt.

They moved to an open hanger where a large window looked out on the cityscape. The Sith stood on a ledge, backlit by the sun, and it was difficult for Obi-Wan to make out his expressions. Instead, he relied on the tones and inflections of his voice to make out his -- enemy's? ally's? -- subtext, since the Zabrak had astoundingly little Force presence.

"Are you prepared to depart, Jedi?"

"We're going to leave now?"

"You would rather I give you time to report my presence to your Council." Despite the phrasing, it was not a question. "You have your supplies. What else do you require?"

"My Padawan."

"You want Tyranus to kill the whelp?"

Obi-Wan paused. Skilled as Anakin no doubt was for a boy his age with his limited training, the Sith was right; this was not a mission Anakin was prepared for.

"I should at least tell him that I'm leaving," he finally said.

"He is Force sensitive. He will know." The Zabrak turned away, and Obi-Wan wondered if he would have the courage to turn his back to the Sith like that. A grappling line suddenly fell in front of him, and the Sith reached for it as another dropped before Obi-Wan. "Climb, Jedi," he said, as he began to pull himself upwards. He looked back only once, just long enough to give Obi-Wan an orange eyed glare that clearly said _If you back out now, you will die._

Obi-Wan thought quickly. It was not his place to take upon himself the mission of defeating the new Sith apprentice. The Council needed to know, first about the Zabrak, and then about Tyranus. But first that meant capturing the Sith before him, and to do that, he would need a distraction. Preferably one that did not arouse suspicion.

"Kenobi."

Although he did not look down again, Obi-Wan was pleased to note that the Zabrak paused for a brief moment. "My name," he continued, as he finally reached for the waiting line, "is Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The Sith continued his ascent. "I am Darth Maul."

_Maul_, Obi-Wan thought. Now he had a name for the face, and that helped Obi-Wan to clear his mind of shadows and nightmares, to focus on the here-and-now. He climbed quickly, so that he was level with Maul… a little bit ahead… then, clinging to the line with one hand, he drew and ignited his lightsaber with the other and pointed it downwards at his opponent.

The green blade -- Qui-Gon's; his own had been lost down the reactor shaft -- slashed across, aiming for the Sith's neck; a signal of I-don't-want-to-kill-you,-but-I-will. But as Obi-Wan was opening his mouth to say, "I will take you before the Council," one crimson blade of Maul's lightsaber flashed to life just in time to block the attack. The lines swung dangerously. Obi-Wan considered for a second jumping back down to the Temple's landing platform, but no. It was too important now to be able to capture the Sith.

Now it was Obi-Wan who had to block as the lines swung towards each other again and Maul's lightsaber flashed toward his face. Red and emerald met in a dazzlingly hot-white display, so bright that Obi-Wan had to blink several times in order to clear his vision. By that time Maul had reached the ship. He watched the Zabrak crouch there as he reclipped his lightsaber to his belt and continued to climb, wondering why he didn't run for the deck and take off--

And then he felt the line shifting from below him, doubling up and rising toward the ship, and Obi-Wan was hanging upside-down by the time that he realized that Maul was pulling it with the Force.

"I wasn't planning on killing you yet," the Sith said, just loudly enough for Obi-Wan to hear him over the wind. Obi-Wan, however, could sense through the Force how badly he wanted to lash out. He felt the urge himself, because this being was Qui-Gon's murderer, an enemy of the Jedi. He was obligated to--

_Only a Sith deals in absolutes._

And with that thought, he could no longer justify his attack, not without becoming his enemy.

Perhaps Maul sensed his resignation, because he slackened his Force-hold on the line so that Obi-Wan could climb properly into the ship.

**They stare at** each other for a long moment. By this point they have moved to the ship's upper deck, and Obi-Wan watches the city-scape of Coruscant streak past them as Maul pilots practically unnoticed through the skylanes. So far the Jedi has been asked only one question -- "Will you cooperate?" -- and the answer, because Obi-Wan had no better one, was "Yes."

Now, fighting to control his voice, it is Obi-Wan's turn to inquire of the Sith, "What is your destination?"

"Into space." That's all. Either he doesn't know, or he still does not trust Obi-Wan enough to tell him more. Not that this is much of a surprise. Obi-Wan still does not entirely trust Maul either, even though the Zabrak has, so far, kept his word and not killed him.

They leave the deck when the ship has entered the empty space far outside Coruscant, and a course for a hyperspace route has been set on the autopilot. Obi-Wan follows Maul down to the lower deck again, and the Zabrak directs him to a small, recently emptied storage compartment -- a collection of crates are stacked beside the door -- and points him inside.

When Obi-Wan hears the door shutting and the bolt being slid into place behind him, the only thing he can think is, _I have a bad feeling about this._


	5. Chapter IV: Uneasy Alliance

_…Chapter IV – Uneasy Alliance…_

**The ship was** almost as physically dark as it was in the Force, the only lights being those with a red or blue tint. Obi-Wan cautiously pushed open the door of his sleep cell and walked the path he had followed yesterday back toward the main deck. He had not explored the ship much the day before; shock, confusion, and pure exhaustion had overwhelmed any natural curiosity. But now that he was awake, now that he realized just what an impulsive decision he had made in agreeing to this mission, he needed answers.

The deck was empty, like the room in which he had originally left the Sith to die. Everything about that duel still stuck so vividly in his memory that he didn't know how he possibly could have forgotten the feel of his opponent so completely. And now he couldn't feel the Zabrak's Force presence any more than he could pick out a shadow in a dark alley.

After glancing briefly at the navigational computer, he left the deck behind and returned to the lift. It let out in a plain circular room. To one side was the door Obi-Wan had originally come from, an airlock, and on the far wall were four identical storage bays. The last door was locked.

His head whipped up as he heard what sounded like fighting coming from the bow of the ship. Moving quickly but trying to keep his footsteps silent on the durasteel floor, Obi-Wan proceeded down the hallway. He could now pick out the distinct hum of lightsaber blades over the crash of metallic... _footsteps?_

_Of course_, Obi-Wan realized a second later. _The Rule of Two. He wouldn't have had any sparring partners besides droids._ It was something of a sobering thought for him, having spent the majority of his own training learning with and from his peers in the Jedi Temple.

His first view of the cargo hold was blocked by what appeared to be a modified Razalon FC-20 speeder bike. On the other side, the Zabrak -- Maul, he reminded himself, remembering the name he had learned the day before -- battled with an android projecting a hologram of a Jedi. Obi-Wan could see the fierce glint in Maul's eyes; he was enjoying this fight.

Cautiously, he moved around the edge of the room, trying to find a better vantage point. But it seemed that wherever he moved, the Jedi's back was always to him. It fought using Form IV, although not as effectively as it could have given sentient reflexes. Not that this fact made it any less deadly. The lightsaber it wielded, a green blade on a simple but elegant durasteel handle, resonated with the same tone as Obi-Wan's own; there was no hint of the practice blades with which he had been trained.

But his comparisons of the Jedi and Sith styles of training and teaching were interrupted when he finally got a look at the hologram's face -- just in time to see it's expression twist as it was stabbed though the place it's heart would have been. The familiar bearded jaw dropped open, the green eyes widened in surprise and fear, and Obi-Wan felt his insides freeze as, for the second time, he watched Qui-Gon Jinn fall to the floor.

The Sith deactivated his lightsaber, and locked gazes with Obi-Wan as the hologram flickered and died. Lost for words, the Jedi simply stared back.

For a long moment, the galaxy seemed to have stopped; Obi-Wan could barely feel the rise and fall of his own chest. He realized he was walking forward only after he'd begun to do so.

The droid was a spindly, almost skeletal thing, built of grey-blue metal with dark lines eerily reminiscent of scars crisscrossing over it's thin arms and torso, no doubt the product of years worth of welding and re-welding. The photoreceptors still glowed despite the sparking wound in it's chest. He looked at the mess of wires inside and thought, _Anakin could fix this._

He dropped to one knee and reached out a hand to touch the cool metal, still somehow unable to wipe the vision of Qui-Gon away from it. How could it continue to haunt him even when he could clearly see the underlying form of the droid before him? It wasn't as though he _wanted_ to remember--

"Do not touch my equipment."

_Equipment._

The word seemed terribly out of place in Obi-Wan's mind, because although it was a droid, it was an incredibly human droid that could assume the visage of Qui-Gon; perhaps even of himself. The thought chilled Obi-Wan to the bone for more than one reason. "You can't call him equipment," he finally said, picking himself up and standing to meet the Sith at eye level again.

"Your Master is dead. Do not dwell on him."

"Then don't give me any more reasons to dwell on his death!" He regretted the words, or rather the tone they had been loosed in, immediately after they left his mouth. The Zabrak showed a slight surprise and... arrogance?... just the barest hint of expression, but somehow still enough to make Obi-Wan feel shameful for giving in to his anger. He breathed deeply, trying to center himself while the Sith picked up his droid and moved to put it away.

"Did you even know his name?"

The Zabrak paused midway across the room. "His name was Jedi."

"His name," Obi-Wan corrected, "was Qui-Gon Jinn, and he was a good man and a great teacher who hadn't finished with his student."

There was a long silence, then Maul turned away as though planning to leave the room. Before he did, though, he asked, "Why do you value names?" He pointed at the droid. "It's name, if you wish to define it as such, is TX-52, and it fought with your Master's speed and skill. What it calls itself means nothing."

Obi-Wan seethed silently. The droid was not Qui-Gon, and it did not have all his skills because it couldn't be compassionate, couldn't smile in that knowing way, couldn't be the comforting presence that Obi-Wan missed more than anything else. But admitting this to the Sith, he realized, would be weakness, because Maul would only find some other way to turn his words against him.

He sat on one of the metal crates strewn throughout the room, making a concious effort to appear in control of himself once again, and asked, "Why me, then, if names mean nothing? Shouldn't every Jedi be the same?"

"I knew your Force signature." With a swish of flowing black robes, Maul turned to face him again, looking down with what Obi-Wan was quickly noticing to be a habitual glower. "I knew your prowess in combat."

"Alright. You said you needed my help. Why? What for?"

"There is a dark lord called Tyranus, a myrmidon of the Sith who casts a pall over your Temple. I seek to kill him. But I have been damaged. And you pledged yourself to battle the dark side, as I pledged myself to have my revenge. You will aid me."

There was no question in his voice, but Obi-Wan was still hesitant to merely accept the way he had yesterday. "It isn't that simple, Maul." The last word felt strange on his tongue, but it gave him a much needed step toward control of the situation. "There's a few more things I need to know. First, how did you survive Naboo?" He left the addition of _When my Master didn't_ unsaid.

"You missed my hearts," he said after a brief pause, and Obi-Wan noted the slight twitch of the red hand, as though wanting to reach for something, perhaps to touch the scar. His gaze dropped to the place where he remembered placing the wound, and recalled also the reek of burning flesh and the sound of a limp body hitting the floor.

_How could I have missed?_

The answer was obvious. He'd been so distracted by the desire to reach the place where Qui-Gon lay that he hadn't hesitated even a moment to be sure of his enemy's defeat; all he'd cared about was being at the dying man's side.

_It still didn't do any good. And look where I am now._

He pushed the guilty thoughts to the back of his mind, and let his eyes flick back up to meet the orange pair above him. He would keep the rest of the questions short and to the point. "How did you escape?"

"From the room, or from the world? Both were simple enough."

The crisp haughtiness of the response made Obi-Wan bristle again, but, being in no place to begin an argument, he bit back another retort, and rephrased. "How did you get from Naboo to Coruscant?"

"I spent time healing, and learning about Tyrannus. Then I remembered _you_. My ship can pass through any sensor's lines undetected, and for Coruscant there are passcodes. Afterward, finding a berth was an insignificant assignment. It was riskier to enter your Temple, but that undertaking was, apparently, a success."

Obi-Wan was quickly coming to the realization that this Sith was far more calculating than he'd originally anticipated. On Naboo, the Zabrak had been all rage and battle-mind, blind animal instinct that left no room for anything else even in his Force presence. But now, hearing him speak, Obi-Wan was able to gather more of his thought process. He glanced over the mention of the Temple -- a breach which, quite frankly, Obi-Wan did not wish to dwell on either at the moment -- but took the time to mention something so menial as docking his ship. Which told him that the first detail he'd mentioned, this new apprentice, was not so _insignificant_ either. "Tell me about Darth Tyrannus. Everything you know."

"He is Sidious' apprentice, but an old man, one who once followed the Jedi teachings."

_Interesting,_ Obi-Wan thought, although it wasn't entirely surprising; failed Padawans and even some young Knights left the Temple every year, and though the Masters kept a certain watch on them, it wasn't all-encompassing. Even they didn't have the resources to monitor every Force user in the galaxy, and unless they showed signs of being truly dangerous, most were paid little heed.

_But the Sith are dangerous. And somehow they continue to escape us._

"I have fought him once," Maul continued. "He was a master of Makashi. He defeated me... but permitted my survival."

There was now a hint of... embarrassment wasn't the right word, but Obi-Wan could tell that the Zabrak did not want to further discuss what he surely felt was a failure. "It does seem strange that Tyrannus would simply let you escape."

The black-rimmed eyes narrowed a fraction. "You mean that he must have had a reason to do so."

"He must have. Perhaps Tyrannus wishes to have you distract your Master, so that he might destroy him. If I'm not mistaken, that is the way of the Sith."

"Or he is tracking us." The reply came so quickly that Obi-Wan wondered for a moment if Maul even considered this basic tenant of the Sith code; if even Obi-Wan knew it, then it must have been part of his training to at least desire the eventual seizing of his Master's power.

"That would make sense," Obi-Wan replied after a moment. "But if that's the case, he knows that you, at least, are coming after him again. Which means that we have a limited amount of time in which to find it, and disable it."

"_I_ will find it." The words whispered like a low growl from the back of his throat. "You will leave." He pointed toward the door, leaving no room for argument. Obi-Wan waited a moment before he actually stood, and then he swept from the room without a backward glance.

**He'd gotten his** answers, some of them anyway, and now he had other priorities; obtaining food was foremost in his mind, not that he had any idea where to find it. He walked back in the direction he'd come from, though since he had not passed a galley on the way to the cargo hold, he did not exactly expect to find one now.

What he finally found, set into the corner of wall next to what counted for his cabin, was a single food prep unit which would provide nutritional if not always appetizing meals. Grimacing slightly at the thought of eating processed food for an indeterminate amount of time, Obi-Wan idly punched in an order for a simple soup and a cup of strong tea, and leaned against the wall while he waited for the machine to announce itself ready.

Already he longed to return to the familiarity of the Temple, and once again he wished that Naboo and Tatooine had never happened, so that he wouldn't be where he was now.

**Perhaps it is** the general darkness that he has been suddenly thrust in the midst of, but barely six standard hours into the day, Obi-Wan can already tell that he isn't thinking exactly like himself. His base desires are the same; he wishes to learn, to analyze, and he itches to train. But the Sith has not returned from the cargo hold, and that appears to be the only place on the ship spacious enough for true exercise.

But there is room enough in his cabin to practice katas, and it is a welcome relief from the endless loop of questions in his mind. Slowly, he settles into the opening stance, ignites his blade, and salutes the imaginary opponent in the Makashi style.


	6. Chapter V: Captive

_…Chapter V – Captive…_

**"I found the** tracking device."

Obi-Wan had been on his way out of the room again, had just opened the door and found the Sith looming there in front of him. The first thing he noticed, after the initial shock of being confronted so suddenly, was that the tattoos marking his face and hands actually covered the entirety of his upper body. The second thing he noticed was that Maul was carrying a small knife in his left hand, and the fleeting thought passed through his mind that the Zabrak had changed his mind and decided to kill him anyway.

"Did you hear me, Jedi?"

He chose to ignore the second comment, and focused back on the first. "Have you disabled it?"

"It is a biological device."

Obi-Wan blinked. "Biological? As in, hidden on your body."

"In the scar tissue." He paused the indicate the area around the hearts, which Obi-Wan's eyes had slid over before. He fixated on it now, wondering how anyone could survive a wound like that. "Tyrannus must have implanted it after our fight. They taught you healing at your Temple. You must help me remove it."

There was the barest hint of strain on the word _must_, as though he didn't really want to admit that he needed aide. Considering who he was asking, Obi-Wan couldn't entirely blame him, although that came with it's own wave of guilt, because he felt he shouldn't _understand_ Maul so easily.

He didn't respond verbally, merely reached for the knife and followed the Sith back into the main hold where he had pulled a crate from one of the storage closets and sat down on it, back to the wall.

He studied the area the Sith had indicated before, willing himself to think only of the task before him and not of the long-past events of Naboo. The last time he had seen this wound -- inflicted by the lightsaber that was even now clipped to his belt -- it had still been red and charred, and the Force had burned with the stench of death. Now, it sang only of restrained strength and determination, and _that_ was not so different from his last impression of Qui-Gon--

_Focus, Kenobi_, he chastised himself as he positioned the point of the knife with oddly steady hands. _The present is the most important time._

Locating the device in the Force was not terribly difficult; although mechanics could not be sensed directly, the absence of life in an area could. He made the cut immediately over the device, and exchanged the vibroknife for a small pair of forceps with which he could remove the tiny computer chip.

The Sith sat upright again so quickly that Obi-Wan barely had time to pull his hand back and not catch and pull the new wound. He was halfway to the door before Obi-Wan could open his mouth to ask, "What do I do with this?"

"Destroy it," came the simple reply.

And then he was gone, leaving Obi-Wan still kneeling on the floor and staring at the closed door.

**After a long** moment, Obi-Wan shook his head, stood, and dropped the tiny device onto the floor before crushing it under the heel of his boot; not the most advanced method, perhaps, but effective none the less. Satisfied that it would no longer be sending out whatever signal it had been, he picked it up and dropped it neatly into the trash chute. They would dump it at the first refueling station they reached.

He returned to the little cabin he'd been granted, and sat quietly on the floor to sort out his thoughts. But no sooner had he sunk into a basic meditation than he was interrupted once again by the opening of the door.

"What did you do with the device?"

"I destroyed it," Obi-Wan replied evenly, "as you told me to."

"Relinquish it."

He finally opened his eyes and stared up at the Sith incredulously. "It's broken," he said, and found himself slipping into the bordering-condescending tone he sometimes used when frustrated with Anakin. "I threw it out."

The Zabrak's eyes flashed dangerously. "You did not think that I would want proof of it's destruction?"

"I can't be expected to read your mind."

"I do not expect clairvoyance, simply practicality. Do they not teach you that at your temple?"

It was too much; the jibe at the Temple and Obi-Wan's instruction there -- and, by association, the Masters who had trained him -- was like a physical blow, and it was difficult to refrain from lashing out himself. "Do not presume to know anything about my life or my training," he snapped, staring up at Maul.

"No matter the quality of your training, I require your aid. If you do not show yourself capable of giving that aid, you are not of use to me."

Obi-Wan sensed the thinly veiled threat, but did not back down; though his next words were not fueled by anger, they were strong just the same. "If our common mission is to eliminate the threat that Darth Tyrannus represents, then I believe we will be useful to each other."

The Sith was silent for a long moment, and Obi-Wan felt himself regaining some control of the situation. In this -- the politics of forming such an unsteady alliance -- his Jedi training gave him the upper hand. All the more reason to keep to the code he had been raised with, and not to let his anger overwhelm him before he released it into the Force.

"Perhaps that too is something of which I require proof," Maul finally said, though it did not sound like the concession Obi-Wan had hoped for.

"I suppose that for the time being you will simply have to trust me," he replied, closing his eyes again and settling back into his meditation, "as I am trusting you."

"You are not trusting me. You are a captive."

Silence, he knew, could be as powerful as words. He did not reply -- what more was there to say, anyway, now that they had strayed so far from their original topic? When the door shut again, he pretended not to hear it. He would not give Maul the satisfaction of knowing how that last statement had unsettled him.

**By the time** evening fell -- or at least, he thought it was evening; it was always hard to tell during extended periods of space travel -- Obi-Wan was both hungry and cramped from sitting too long on the durasteel floor. He decided to tackle the latter first, and though his legs protested a bit, he stretched and began walking again.

Maul was in the cockpit, a protein bar and a bottle sitting in front of him on an unused part of the console, and he appeared to be ignoring the Jedi the way that Obi-Wan had been ignoring him earlier.

"Are we still on course?" Obi-Wan finally asked.

"Yes."

"Where are we on course to?"

"Nowhere." The Zabrak never took his eyes from the viewport, though their hyperspace tunnel looked no different from any other. "Random jumps for now, to alleviate pursuit."

It was not the whole truth, that much Obi-Wan knew, but he did not push the matter. More important was their eventually destination. "And where will we go when you are satisfied we are not being followed?"

"Vjun. Tyrannus has a stronghold there."

Obi-Wan nodded. He knew the planet from recent reports; harsh experimentation had left most of the populace dead or insane, and it had happened so quickly that the Republic had not had the time to intervene. It was an appropriate place for a Sith to settle.

A red and black hand suddenly thrust a tray with another protein bar and a full glass in his direction. "Eat."

It was a gesture of necessity more than generosity, but Obi-Wan took the offered food and drink anyway, and sat in one of the unused passenger chairs. He ate in silence, but asked before he sipped the drink, "What is it?"

"Iridonian wine."

He wondered briefly if this was some hint of Maul's background, or if it was simply what he was used to drinking. Dark in color, it tasted of both fruit and spices, and other flavors that were foreign to Obi-Wan. But it was good, and it was strong.

And maybe it would help him sleep.

He drained the glass before he stood again. It was not until he exited the lift that a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him. He didn't feel the impact as he hit the floor.

**His dream does** not take him to a single, recognizable place, but rather to a juxtaposition of all the worlds he has visited in the last twelve years. But that is not what's strange to him. What is strange is that he isn't alone, but accompanied by a man who he watched die almost three years before.

Qui-Gon walks beside him, his longer strides leisurely, so that Obi-Wan does not need to struggle to keep up. He is speaking in the Master-voice, explaining that _this tree's leaves have medicinal benefits_ and _that sun is the larger of the two in the system_ and _you must follow your instincts, my young Padawan_.

"I thought I was meant to follow your advice," he replies, half jokingly.

"No, Obi-Wan. I give you advice so that you know enough to form your own judgments."

"And when I judge wrong?"

Qui-Gon suddenly steps in front of Obi-Wan, effectively stopping him in his tracks. He is silent for a long moment; when he does speak, it is in a plain, objective tone. "Why are you here, Obi-Wan?"

"Because…" He trails off, realizing that he still has not arrived at a suitable answer. "Because I…"

"Because you are following the pull of the Living Force." It is not a question. Qui-Gon fixes him with a steady gaze. "Because the information you follow now is vital to the Republic. And because you must learn to accept, and _not to seek revenge._" He smiles slightly. "You are a good Jedi, my Padawan, but you will be better for this."

"I will not fail you."


End file.
